Blood Speckled Lilies
The funny thing about earlier times was there wasn't much effort people could put into tracking each other. If someone got lost, you kind of just hoped they didn't die. Ironically, this probably saved me the trouble of dealing with the authorities too much in earlier times so I was never really too high on the list of wanted people, not that they knew who to look for anyways.
Heh. I guess I had a knack for being more discreet back then or maybe it was easier. I never really cared to figure that out till it became a problem. Well, it only became a problem when the body count started to pile up. I think somewhere along the way I had managed to lose myself a little, somewhat the same way I watched the men stumble drunkenly from the bar with me. Maybe I lost my senses a bit... I like to think I did.
It all really started to spiral after the first few. I think Edwin was my most notable kill. I had remembered the way Edwin Baldwin had draped himself over me in 1953 in the front seat of his old F-100. The paint was still pretty fresh and it was still that ugly, bright old sea green that hadn't yet embarked on enough journeys through the back road of a farm to start to chip and fade off.
I still recall how Edwin was excitedly telling me about how he bought it between our hot and awkward kisses. I remember the way his hands smoothed down over my shoulders and the way our tongues licked across the roof of one another's mouth. "Natalia," my name would roll off his tongue. "Such an old name." He smirked between fevered kisses.
"It was my grandmother's name," which was not untrue. "My family thought it to be a way to bless me. They were wrong."
Edwin laughed harder as he pushed his suspenders off his shoulders to pull his buttoned shirt from his pants. I remember my fingers clasping the top button of his pants to help him as he tried to crawl over me awkwardly in the seat.
"Well maybe it is. We're here on a cold night in August trying to keep each other warm. I don't know what could be a better blessing." He smirked as he ripped my blouse down to grab at my breast.
"You're a real shot in the dark," I commented back to him and he snorted at the remark. "I only wish you would stop treating me as such, then I probably might feel bad for you."
"Feel bad for what?" He wheezed, his hand stuffing in between my thighs roughly before he groped at my inner thigh and pushed me deep into the seat.
"This." I danced around the truth so simply as he leaned back in to kiss me. My mouth caught his bottom lip as he pulled back and his lip snapped back and he licked it feeling the blood.
"Ow. Come on baby, you don't gotta be rough."
"Oh but David does this with me," I lied to get him to continue.
"Don't go comparing us two. You make a man feel real small-"
"Ssshhh," I told him before continuing. I remember the feel of his hair tangled between my fingers as we kissed again and he seemed to only follow me deeper into the corner of my mind where I had wanted him. As he leaned down, I was opening my eyes to look at him. My gaze caught on the windows and windshield. I noticed how the windows were finally fogging up and the truck felt warmer than it had moments earlier. My fingers danced along the rim of his neck before I drew him in closer, kissing his cheek back to his ear and down to the sweet spot on his neck. I could hear his breathing accelerate and he followed up by telling me, "Hey baby, you're pretty needy. Slow down."
"Patience isn't exactly my virtue, Edwin, " I told him, my eyes fluttering shut, kissing his chin and down his neck, finding that spot again, as I peeled back his shirt. The cloth was dangling off him and my hands slid under it to push the sleeves off so I could help him take it off. "The pants, Edwin, the pants." I chided, trying to rush him.
"Alright, alright! Damn you're lucky you're hot." He panted, pulling them down to his boxers before I felt that ungodly grin spread across my face. I'm such a terrible liar... Was all I could remember thinking.
"And those?" I pointed at the last of his clothes as he groaned, stripping that off too.
"There, alright." He breathed, sitting over me a little annoyed. I could see his skin turning pink from the blood that rose to the surface.
"It's sort of hard to take off my clothes like this." I whined, feigning innocence and his irritation only seemed to soften as his eyes lit up at a possible look at me. I closed my eyes as my lips pursed, drawing a hand over my shoulder and I pushed my sleeve down from my blouse - he had already undone my bra - before he leaned in eagerly. I tensed, coiled at my idiot prey before I pulled him in closer.
I think the highlight of my memory before the night was his large, warm hand cupping my back as he pushed my skirt down and his neck lined up with my mouth. Each kiss started gently and then as my eyes closed I remember hearing the pulse of his heart. Oh it was glorious, listening to it pound so intently, so rhythmically, that it became my focus. I know this was the best of each moment and time; my intoxication.
At some point, I came to realize with each altercation that I could only remember a particular feeling with each man. It was as if that was all I could hear and it really had become that way. Sort of like one of those songs on the radio that played in your mind long after it had ended. The ones that you enjoyed humming to yourself for a time, though I don't remember when the music ever stopped but it somehow always managed to stop at some point.